


Death by a Merchant

by urusai_lilania



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Computers, Decisions, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Healing, Independence, Introspection, Medical, Missions, Mutants, Near Death, Nicknames, Science Experiments, Second Chances, Siblings, Twins, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2020-01-31 05:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18584473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urusai_lilania/pseuds/urusai_lilania
Summary: Pietro should have died that day, but the fates had something else in store for him. Now he's in recovery, having to make decisions and think the big thoughts he never thought he'd have to make. The man he nearly died saving is now trying to guide him into his new life as payment. Will he be an Avenger, or will something else distract him entirely?





	1. New Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I've been sitting on forever but finally got around to working on more readily. Didn't think it'd turn into a chapter'd thing but hey, it is what it is! We'll see where it goes from here.

Hopping up onto the slick, expensive counter, Pietro Maximoff sighed and watched through the highly-resistant glass as the many other people populating the new Avengers’ headquarters milled about below him on the lower levels. He shouldn’t be here, he knew. He should have died, if not for these people. He would have left Wanda on her own, in a much bigger world than their little picture had ever predicted.

But he wasn’t dead. For the second time in his life, he had been spared the anguish of a premature demise, of abandoning his dearest sister, of vacating this world. And now… now he was being given the opportunity to protect it. It was a strange feeling; he’d spent years alongside his dearest sister, his younger twin Wanda, protecting one another from the perils of their home, of war, of that man’s machines. And now, they wanted Pietro to be on the same team as that man. The man who ruined his life.

Sort of.

“Hey, kid. What’re you doing way up here?” Clint wondered, flopping down into a plush chair in the sitting room just a few feet to Pietro’s left. Why the brat preferred to climb up onto things, Clint Barton, perhaps better known as Hawkeye, refrained from questioning. He would be the last person to question wanting a better vantage point, and it was obviously what the young man was doing—Clint himself had sat at this spot, watching the worker ants scrambling around beneath him. However, he did it to clear his head. Pietro’s eyes were far from clear.

Leaning back and bracing his body with his hands as they gripped the counter, Pietro sighed. “I do not know what to do about this.”

“You’ve got plenty of time to make up your mind,” Clint gently reminded him. It was true enough; Pietro, unlike Wanda, was severely injured upon his arrival. He had only _just barely_ escaped death—had, in fact, been _mostly_ dead when S.H.I.E.L.D. rushed him into medical after the destruction of his homeland. He was still in recovery, despite Helen Cho’s skills—neglecting the fact that the infamous Helen had had to undergo the figurative knife herself after what Ultron had done to her. Her team had seen to the devastated male’s bullet-ridden body until the hardheaded Helen interrupted her own treatments to help them in the daunting task. This young man’s sister had freed her from Ultron’s mental stranglehold; it was a debt she was keen to repay. Even without her precious cradle, she really did a bang-up job.

Pietro had needed little nudging during the battle against the agitated artificial intelligence being to do the right thing. The right thing was clear-cut, defined—something he had been doing for his country. Even at super speeds, his body could barely keep up with him, and in the end, it had failed him. Clint knew Pietro felt his falling was a mark against him, no matter what the various members of the Avengers told him. “Should have seen that coming,” he had murmured weakly from the medical bed one night, unable to muster a chuckle. Wanda silently wept at his side as Clint eyed him, wishing he could smack the kid for being so predictable, so selfless.

No, it was Wanda who needed guidance, and not because she was the lesser of the twins. The very essence of her power was chaotic, unknown; it only made sense that she be overwhelmed by the consequences of her actions. Clint and his dear friend Natasha Romanoff knew the conflict all too well; the twins had confessed to them early on what they’d done. Wanda had allowed the stress-addled Tony Stark to take Loki’s scepter from its place at the start of the conflict; Pietro had wanted to punch the man through the roof! He _still_ did. The weight of the battle of Sokovia fell on Wanda’s slender shoulders, suffocating her. And so, Clint and Natasha offered her a chance at redemption, as they themselves had been offered long before.

Surprisingly, Wanda had snatched up the opportunity. Clint had made his case to her during the battle, and a tête-à-tête with Natasha had given the young woman fresh insight on the benefits of being an Avenger during times of peace—and how to be the best version of oneself. Pietro was, oddly, the more difficult of the twins to talk to. Despite having, for all intents and purposes, _died_ protecting an Avenger and the cause, Pietro seemed at a loss now. He’d undergone the Korean woman’s mysterious technology, not fully dead, but not alive enough to consent, either. He had agreed to travel with his sister to the United States with the Avengers. They said that they owed him that much for everything he’d done.

…Everything he’d done…

Pietro shuddered.

He’d done good. He had to keep telling himself this. But what did the Avenger known as Hawkeye think? When asked, Clint scoffed good-naturedly. “Well, I may be a little _biased_ , you know, but you helped stop a genocide, much less a total extinction plot. And you still made the extra sacrifice to save an old man and a little boy. If that doesn’t give you bonus points, I don’t know what does!”

Clint smiled; Pietro had laughed to himself, even if it was a quiet little thing. “Mm. You _are_ old,” the younger male agreed, grinning.

Feigning shock, Clint gawked at his silver-haired companion. “Hey, now. Only _I’m_ allowed to say that!”

Narrowing his eyes and tilting his head, Pietro pointed his index finger in the air. “What about this wife of yours, Laura, was it?”

Ah, Pietro had him there, didn’t he? “She wears the pants, so what she says goes, man.”

“You make relationship decisions based on pants?” Pietro asked with a questioning look.

Chuckling and shaking his head, Clint fumbled around, trying to think of the right words. “It… it’s an expression. Like, we’re in agreement that she makes all the important calls.”

“Ah. Dominant. That makes you the submissive then.”

“Heeey… you said it,” Clint remarked, leaning back and raising his arms in defense. “I’ve gotten three kids out of it now, so it works, yeah?”

“Mm. I suppose.”

“I’m surprised you’re not with Wanda.”

“She had something to do. Something Avenger-y.”

“Ah. Well, you could’ve gone with her. We trust you around here.”

“Do you?” Pietro wondered.

“You wouldn’t be in this building if we didn’t,” Clint reminded him, shrugging his shoulders. “We would’ve healed your ass in Korea and arrested you, if we were as hung up on whatever it is you think you did as you think we are.”

Pietro flushed. “We were co-conspirators to Ultron.”

“Wanda says he lied to you, used you. That you escaped the moment his intentions were clear.”

“This is… true. But should you really believe us?”

“Look, kid. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. At least you thought you were doing what was right. Things get confusing, especially during war.”

“You _might_ have a point.”

“ _Just_ ‘might’?”

“Yes. Might.”

Clint laughed. Pietro, while unsure of where he stood, was at least a likable guy. He had a lot of promise.

The only question, _really_ , was what he’d _do_ with that promise.


	2. A Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Maximoff twins have always been at one another's side, but things are changing. They need to adapt to their situation. Luckily, the Avengers are rather accommodating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having more fun writing this one, even if it is taking a different direction than I originally expected! Tags and whatnot will change to mirror the state of the story as events unfold! :)

Wanda stood in the doorway of the simple bedroom, apprehensively gnawing on her lower lip. “What is it?” She jumped; her brother’s voice had come from behind her. Huffing, she spun on her heels and slapped the back of her hand against his chest.

“Damn you, Pietro! You could give me a heart-attack, you know?”

“If I haven’t already, I do not know how else I could,” he chuckled, smiling warmly. “Now, what is it? You do not come to stand in my room like this for no reason anymore.”

“Yes I do.”

“Only when you are about to do something you are unsure of.”

“…Could we sit down, perhaps?”

“Of course.”

Together they sat on the edge of Pietro’s provided bed. His room was considered his, no matter what decision he would make for his future. It was part of Wanda’s agreement to have her brother able to be beside her. She had simply asked for two beds at the time, but Tony insisted on separate rooms. “A girl’s gotta have her privacy. I’m sure he’d say the same thing.” Wanda thought it was nonsense of course; the twins had shared the same room, often enough the same bed, throughout their lives. They coped with what they had, so long as they had each other. Still, she agreed to Tony’s terms; she was afraid of the offer being removed from the table if she put up too much resistance. She couldn’t be without Pietro. Not after what she felt in her heart that day…

“So. This thing that makes you uncomfortable, what is it?” Pietro asked, leaning back on his palms and lightly kicking his legs against the bed.

Wanda bit her lip and eyed her brother. His relaxed demeanor was somewhat of a performing lie, and they both knew she knew. But it was to help calm her nerves… “Natasha has asked that I accompany her on a reconnaissance mission.”

“What is the problem?”

“It… It will be the first time I leave, now that you are here.”

“Is that all?”

“It is a lot.”

“Mn. Trivial, if you ask me.”

“You are still healing!”

“Mostly only in spirit,” Pietro confessed with a half-hearted grin. “My body took to Doctor Cho’s treatments like it does everything these days.” He paused, wondering why his sister brought this up, then said, “You know, it isn’t as though you need my permission to go.”

“No, I just… I…” Wanda bit her lip hard, her eyes shining. “I just nearly lost you, you idiot!” she cried, shoving his chest and knocking him flat atop the bed.

“Aah, it is fair to say I nearly lost you too!” he proclaimed quickly, pointing a finger skywards.

“What—”

“I mean it. Not having a life means little if you’re not in it,” Pietro admitted. “I heard from the machine that you did not plan on escaping.”

“His name is Vision, Pietro. I know you know it.”

He _also_ knew how the machine had been looking at his sister, but Pietro kept his mouth shut. Wanda had proved intrigued by Vision since his creation. Their mutual interest in one another was something he wasn’t _quite_ prepared to come to terms with. Wanda had never been one to look at other people that way; she didn’t have the time, she had reasoned, every time she was approached.

Pietro hadn’t minded flirting with women in town, but he never expected much of it. He and Wanda were too busy rebelling, fighting the good fight. That was just something… _extra_. But now that he had nearly died, Pietro realized something. They needed to live for more than revenge. That wasn’t living, not really. He wasn’t sure what sort of life he was ready to live, but he could see it in Wanda’s eyes; she had a picture forming.

It would be wrong to rip this picture from her hands.

Sitting up, Pietro smiled. Wanda looked him in the eyes, searching his expression. It was her loving brother. He was still in there, just as Helen Cho had assured her he’d be. There was something… _else_ in there, something small and clouded, but it was Pietro, all right. She didn’t have to see inside his mind to know. “Should I go?” she wondered.

“You should not have to ask this,” Pietro reasoned, reaching out to place her dark chestnut hair behind her ear. “On a day like this, you could come to me and _tell me_ you are going, perhaps even invite me along if permissible, but you should not have to _ask_ this of me. Not anymore.”

“But Pietro—”

“You are strong, Wanda. And I will be fine. We will see each other again, yes? You should go pack. How long will you be gone?”

Wanda’s brow furrowed as she hastily wiped the back of her hand across her eyes to prevent tears from appearing. “I am unsure. It seems important, but Natasha said she would debrief me along the way. For all I know, it is a training mission.”

“No better training than the real thing,” her brother mused. “Shall I walk you to your room? Or do you need to concentrate?”

“Oh please, do come. We could catch up a bit more in advance, in case I do end up gone for some time.”

Nodding, Pietro hopped up onto his feet. Grinning toothily, he zipped out of his room and across the way to Wanda’s own, more personalized living space. As she entered the room behind him, she scowled. “You _know_ you should not be doing that! Not yet. You may undo all the hard work the doctors did!”

“But I’m so _bored_.”

“Find something to amuse yourself with then. You were not always this way.”

“Are you so sure?” he asked, chuckling weakly.

Pietro knew damn well what she meant, so Wanda did not dignify him with a response. Instead, she pulled a bag from her closet and began folding her clothes into it. Was this what an Avenger did normally? She couldn’t say; she had been on social outings with Clint and Natasha since her arrival in the United States, but otherwise she had yet to leave on any official capacity. Natasha had mentioned a bag, so she was working with what she had.

“Could you not ask?” Pietro wondered, startling her out of her thoughts.

“What are you talking about?”

“I do not need to see inside you; you’ve been staring at that bag for a few minutes now.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Mm. I will ask.”

“Piet—” She cut herself off, huffing. He was already gone.

~~~

Natasha Romanoff was a curious woman. She was an ex-Russian spy, and, well, _still_ a spy, just a S.H.I.E.L.D.-affiliated spy now. And, frankly, Pietro had been impressed by S.H.I.E.L.D.’s performance in Sokovia. They had rescued everyone, assisted in relocating them into new places to live.

Pietro didn’t have the heart to contact any of the people he knew from his homeland now; he had had his hands around his country’s throat and didn’t even realize; he was partly to blame for its destruction. He was played for a fool. He did not particularly like being played for a fool.

Shaking his head, he paused in his run. He did not know this Natasha’s patterns, so the odds of him stumbling across her weren’t good. Whipping out the phone Clint had given him, Pietro texted the archer a simple, to the point, [Hello. Where is Romanoff right now?]

After a beat passed, there was a soft vibration and [Try the gym.] appeared.

And he was off!

The gym was a marvel in itself. No surprise there, it was made to vent the stresses of the likes of Captain America, an archer, a supposed ballerina, a god, and more. The ballerina was whom Pietro wanted, and he found her easily enough now: lifting weights.

He was at her side before he had a chance to figure out how to approach her.

She nearly dropped the weights at the sight of him. “A little warning would be nice. I’m reconsidering telling Clint it wasn’t necessary to put a bell on you.”

“I would enjoy that too much, I think.”

“Shocking. What’s up?”

“Wanda is attempting to pack for your mission,” he explained readily, “but she does not know how one _actually_ packs for a mission. She feels you were intentionally vague.”

“She’s not wrong,” Natasha confessed. “Are you worried about her?”

“Not really,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “Just hoping I could perhaps find out if she needs to bring anything in particular.”

“She’ll need to be able to pass for the average person in public spaces, so you can feel free to suggest she bring a discreet change of clothes.”

“Hm.”

Natasha eyed him. “Yes?”

“By discreet, you mean…”

“She has a few nice pants and jackets we bought with her; those will work. A hat and sunglasses. We’ll be outdoors for this.”

“ _Is_ that very discreet?” Pietro wondered, a quizzical expression gracing his features.

“There are ways to drop unwanted attention. If she gains any, it’ll be a quick lesson in that as well. She’ll be fine. We’ll have our communicators the entire time.”

“Oh, I know. Wanda is more than capable. You’d be surprised, I think.”

Natasha watched as the young man quickly sent a text to, presumably, his sister. “How are you handling things?”

“Bored, mostly. I lived a very active life, you know. Sitting around all day, it is not something I am used to.”

Natasha climbed to her feet, eyeing the well-built silver-haired man over. “There’s plenty of things to do here. If we’re missing something, we can get it for you—you just have to know how to ask.”

“And who would I ask?”

“Stark, of course.”

“Ah, of course…”

Natasha’s face gave little away, but she said, “You still don’t like him?”

“I cannot say I don’t. I cannot say I do. Can’t say much, really.”

“Well, you’d be on even ground with a lot of people then,” the redhead granted. “You want a mission?”

“Sure.”

“Do what you can to find out how you feel about him while we’re gone. Do what it takes. Report to me when we get back.”

Striking a mock salute, Pietro laughed. “A game! This I like.”

Natasha smirked and rolled her eyes as the young man disappeared from the gym, knowing it was far too late to yell after him that he shouldn’t be running at this stage. Sitting back down at the bench, she went back to her bicep curls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interested in checking out my original writing or spying on my three furbabbies’ antics? You can find us [here](http://nikkitapierrottie.com/)!


	3. Second Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pietro Maximoff's body is one of a kind, and Helen Cho isn't about to let her hard work fall to pieces. Appointments and examinations bring them together often, and today is no different. Still, Pietro has a lot on his mind, and Helen loves to help where she can...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly working through my backlog to try and post what I can! This fic is hardly popular but it's fairly relaxing to write, so it got my attention today! :) I have always loved the Maximoffs. Mutant love is life~

Little Wanda Maximoff was gone. This was fine, Pietro had said, and he’d meant it from the very depths of his soul. The Maximoff twins were people of action, and, so long as it was positive action, he’d encourage his sister’s every choice. She had the right to live her own life.

Still, the sudden abject _slowness_ of _his_ life was eating at his every waking thought. Pietro was unused to just sitting around, especially in the months since the torturous-yet-voluntary experimentation. His involvement in the HYDRA-led “resistance” had been a flash in the pan; his time with Ultron, only a little longer.

His body had changed. It seemed such a small detail on the surface—superhuman speed. But it wasn’t _just that_. There was a fine line of control involved, but Pietro’s entire being could be sped up in bits and pieces or as a whole. He could, if he wanted to, even _think_ at super-speeds! He’d gained experience with general combative techniques, but for regular, day-to-day activities, Pietro hadn’t honestly had much time to adjust to his new life as a “mutate”—that was what Helen Cho referred to the Maximoffs as, anyway. She had smiled fondly when she said it, but Pietro wasn’t so certain random strangers would be so warm about it. He hadn’t honestly cared when he volunteered for the program. He had needed the scepter’s power to save his people.

It had nearly had the entirely opposite effect.

Now he was trapped in a body that was constantly rushing through the motions. His mind buzzed and buzzed until it turned numb and now he couldn’t feel a thing. His actions were disjointed, disconnected, spontaneous-seeming, if only because his brain spat out commands left and right from nowhere fast.

But now—stillness. He had to heal. He couldn’t stop his internal body’s motions, but he had to try and maintain a level of calm over the rest of himself. Long enough for the recovery process.

“Do you think this will take much longer? I do not mean to be impatient, it is just… well, _you_ understand, yes?”

Helen looked at her tablet and smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Yes, Pietro, I understand. But I’d still advise you to give it another week.”

“A week, eh?”

The raven-haired doctor nodded. “Your body has been mended like new, thanks to the regenerative tissue. However, the _shock_ your body underwent from being so far gone… I just don’t want to take any chances, you know. HYDRA only had so much valuable research data on your body’s attributes; I’ve been working blind. The mutations you underwent are unlike anything I’ve seen previously! If you would have only stayed at U-GIN with me, I could have run much more vigorous tests!”

Chuckling, Pietro tilted his head at her. “Ah, true, but the idea would have mortified Wanda. At least here, she does not have to know, yes?”

“Of course. Until she _does_ know.”

“Mm.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t? Her powers…”

“Wanda does not look inside minds freely. It hurts too much.”

“…Are you sure?” Helen repeated hesitantly.

Pietro took no offense. Helen may be speaking conversationally, but she was a doctor and scientist; her first concern tended to be gathering data, even when she was off-duty. “Well, perhaps if she were looking at happy things, she would not feel their pain. I do not know. But she worries enough about how others see her as it is, yes? Spying would only make things worse.”

“Well, I suppose. You know her best.” Helen’s small nose scrunched up as she contemplated this. “It’s a shame you won’t let me talk her into these tests…”

“It is not that she does not trust you, Doctor Cho. She has never been that fond of being poked. But I will ask later.”

“Please, Pietro. Helen is fine. I’m not much older than you!”

“Ah, and yet you are so much wiser!” he laughed, smiling. In a warm, thoughtful addition, the silver-haired young man admitted, “My sister and I, we do not have a diverse education. We had no time for such things.”

With a twist of her lips, Helen leaned over and set her tablet down on a nearby counter. “If you _were_ interested… what would you choose to learn?”

Blinking, Pietro scratched his stubbly chin. “I… I do not know. Wanda appreciates art.”

“Yes, but what do _you_ appreciate, Pietro? Surely not everything concerns your sister.” Helen hoped she wasn’t overstepping her boundaries. Pietro was so keen on his sister’s independence, but he often forgot about his own. “I’m sorry, I just—”

Pietro waved his hand before his nose. “It is fine, Do—Helen. It is fine. I think I see what you are saying, yes? I do not know. I never thought I’d live this long.”

“But you wanted to have retribution against Tony Stark, did you not?”

“Yes, but…” He sighed. “I was not so foolish to think I would take on Iron Man and survive. Maybe I destroy him as I go, but I do not live to tell the tale.”

“And before the mutation?” she pressed.

“Ah… Well. We were always struggling against oppression. Sokovia was a very conflicted nation.”

“So you’ve always dedicated all of your energy into your current activities,” Helen surmised, nodding. “You mentioned Natasha when you came in. What did she suggest?”

“Aahh…”

The petite Korean frowned slightly. “Can you not share?”

“I… _can_ …”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No! No… Maybe?”

Stepping forwards, Helen rested her hand atop Pietro’s arm. “You may speak to me in confidence. Nothing we discuss ever leaves this room.”

Pietro sighed, flashing her a half-hearted smile. “Natasha suggested I reevaluate my stance on Stark.”

“Ah… I can see why she’d make such a suggestion.”

“Do you think I should?”

“If you intend to remain near your sister, I think it’d be for the best. Even if you didn’t… it would relieve a weight from you, wouldn’t it? I can’t see that as a bad thing.”

“I see. I shall find a way to study Stark and decide if I should take my investigations further, yes?”

“That should be enough for now, I’d think,” Helen agreed. She watched as Pietro climbed to his feet, the deliberate, jerky way he moved to the doorway to keep from speeding. Suddenly, as if forgetting himself, he spun on his heels, too fast for Helen to see. Now he was leaning in the door frame, eyeing her, his arms folded across his chest.

“I meant to ask earlier. You say you have much work back at U-GIN, yet you are here. What have you been up to? Surely you do not sit around in a closet until it is time for our appointments,” he joked.

Helen cast her eyes aside and smiled, just the tiniest bit of blush touching her cheeks. “You are not my only patient, actually. I’ve been consulting with the other Avengers that are willing to be examined.”

Head tilting ever so slightly, Pietro’s grey eyes shimmered mischievously. “Has Thor consented?”

Ah, so he wished to tease her, then! Helen sucked in her lower lip and passed her fingers behind her ear to tuck away loose strands of hair. “I… I haven’t had a chance to ask him.”

“You want me to?”

“N-no! No.” She had read him wrong! He was teasing her, sure, Pietro loved to tease. But he also wished to help her. Was she _that_ obvious?

“Why not?”

“I am afraid what constitutes science on Earth will prove laughable to him…” Sure, Thor had dated a scientist before, that Jane Foster, but Helen was a different sort of scientist. One could not assume the god of thunder would just have a thing for all Earthling scientists…

“I do not see how it would hurt. He might even assist you, yes? Or is he not particularly intelligent? A ‘meat-head’ as Americans like to say, perhaps?”

Helen slapped the back of her hand across Pietro’s chest and laughed nervously. “Be kind, Pietro. He is a friend.”

“Not mine.”

“He has the _potential_ to be a friend _and_ a teammate. Maybe you should be looking into _all_ of the Avengers, if this is how standoffish you are, hm?”

“Perhaps. But first, I will see to this Tony Stark, yes? It is my first directive.”

With a wide smile, Helen nodded. “Good luck! Just remember, he’s human and flawed by definition.”

“Comforting,” Pietro said, his lips twisting. With a wave, he saw himself out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interested in checking out my original writing or spying on my three furbabbies’ antics? You can find us [here](http://nikkitapierrottie.com/)!


	4. Researching the Root

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pietro is on assignment now, but he can't help but deviate a little with his own personal "mission" for a dear friend. After all, if he is expected to work with these Avengers, he should probably engage them. Just a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First update of 2020, oh my! Finally finished up the last little bit of this chapter to get it posted! I like to juggle things, so updates aren't fast but, well, you know... Maybe. ::cough:: At any rate, I also enjoy writing Marvel! Cheers :)

Pietro, it seemed, was destined to wander the entirety of the Avengers compound this morning, but he didn’t mind. There were people everywhere, working, relaxing, socializing—it was its own secret little world, buried in the American wilderness. Not entirely self-sufficient, but it would do for his sister just fine, he mused.

Truth be told, he wasn’t certain how to watch Tony Stark just yet, so he opted for the easier of his current assignments: Thor Odinson.

It was rather hard to miss the god of thunder. For one, his voice was just as thunderous as his strikes. Pietro followed the reverberations across the compound to find the bearded blonde Asgardian entertaining himself, somewhat surprisingly, with a video game.

“I did not imagine _this_ to be your thing.”

“Ah! It is the little flea!” Thor boomed with laughter, grinning broadly. “I have many things, little flea. Sit with me! Play!”

“Flea?” Pietro repeated, cocking his head to the side and not moving.

“Yes. You can be irritating and hard to catch!” Thor explained fondly, tossing the controller aside and pouncing. He threw a meaty arm around Pietro’s neck and gave him a noogie. Pietro’s grey eyes grew wide as he fought between laughter and stunned silence at such familiar treatment. Instead, he did a sudden spin and freed himself, sliding around behind Thor and appearing on the other side of the god. “Ah, you see? You prove me right! _Just like_ a little flea!”

Pietro smiled. Thor, despite referring to him as irritating, apparently found this quality endearing. But Thor had had his fair share of misbehaving friends, yes? His brother, the god Loki, that had invaded New York with aliens just a few years earlier… “You are in a good mood, I see. This is good, yes? I have a favor to ask, if I may.”

Thor’s smile softened into a curious smirk. “Oh? Speak, then.”

Tugging at an imaginary hat, Pietro said, “How would you like to play guinea pig?”

“What is a guinea pig?”

“It is a little furry rodent. Sciency things are done to them often, or so I hear.”

“Ahh… You wish to prod me? You may prod away!” he declared, throwing his arms open wide.

“Hahaha, no, I am afraid not, I do not ask this thing for my sake. D… Helen. Helen is, how does one describe this… building a profile on each of you? The Avengers. Does this make sense?” Pietro tried to explain. Scowling softly, he tried again. “She is interested in learning from you, if only you allow _her_ to prod you some.”

“Ah! The good doctor! How is she? Is she still here?”

“Yes, she is still monitoring my condition,” the Sokovian admitted. “Just a precaution, I am told. But she is looking for more guinea pigs now.”

“I can bring her as many rodents as she desires!”

“Ah, no, no, no rodents, if you please,” Pietro corrected, holding out a hand. “ _You_. You are the rodent! You are the _best_ of the rodents, yes?”

Thor laughed. “Is this for calling you a flea?”

“It is similar to being called a flea, I suppose,” Pietro admitted. “You do not misunderstand me.”

“No, of course not. But you are an odd little man. It is fun to play your game!”

Blinking, Pietro asked, “Game?”

“You speak in a way familiar to me,” Thor said, sorrowfully affectionate. “Perhaps it is not the same, but you are more careful with your words than I am. You wish to do good by them.”

Pietro blinked, taken aback. “Ah… I do not think I put as much thought into this as you think I do.”

The blonde god of thunder wouldn’t back down. “Nonsense! Why else do you call me a rodent and invite me to experimentation, other than to help a friend?”

“Er… haha.”

Grinning broadly, Thor nodded. “I understand, little flea. I will most definitely become the best of the guinea pigs!”

“Helen will _love_ this news! We should go now, if you are free.”

“Of course. Revels may happen at any time, but _this_! This will happen immediately! Let us go!”

“Ah, Thor, it is this way,” Pietro corrected, watching as the god made to walk towards the living quarters. Grinning mischievously, the playful god turned back around and strode alongside Pietro to the labs.

“This is not an elaborate hoax to gain my remarkable blood so that you may feast, yes?”

“Er… I beg your pardon?” Pietro asked, jerking as he walked.

Thor boomed with laughter, slapping the smaller man on the shoulder. “You sound genuinely confused! This is good!”

“Is it really?”

Thor nodded, holding back a sniff. Yes, he missed playful personalities the most. One in particular, that he could not see for a long, long time… He’d have to make do forcing it out of others—and Pietro seemed most willing. Excellent.

~~~

Helen licked her lips, stumbled to find words in the face of the speed demon and the golden god, then finally settled on saying, “You work fast, Pietro,” under her breath.

Flashing her a smile, Pietro chuckled. “Do you need an assistant, Doctor Cho?” The teasing in his tone was all too apparent.

“Come now, little flea, I will be guinea pig _and_ assistant! I will not have you tarnishing my greatness.”

“Wow. Be my guest, rodent!” Pietro shot back with a much more liberated laugh.

Helen looked back and forth between the two men. “Do you understand the situation, Thor?”

“Not really,” he said with a chuckle. “But Pietro says you desire an experiment, and I am more than willing!”

Blushing, Helen brushed her hair behind her ear. “I-I see… Yes. I do.”

“If you two do not mind, I have to work on my next assignment!” Pietro said, saluting with two fingers. “Good luck!”

“Ah, Piet—Damn that man,” Helen cursed. “He listens to what is best for those around him, but not so much for himself,” she added for Thor’s benefit. Pietro was long gone.

“That is what it is to be selfless,” Thor remarked cheerfully. “He is still young; may he find balance before long.”

“Mm.”

“Now, good doctor! Do what you will with me!”

Despite her personal feelings towards the god, Helen was a scientist first and foremost and would not let her personal feelings interfere with this absolutely golden opportunity. “Ah, if you please; Helen is fine, Thor. Let me gather some standard vitals before we move on to anything else…”

~~~

“I suppose I cannot continue to delay the inevitable,” Pietro mused aloud, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Mm… but how to start…”

“Is something the matter, Mr. Maximoff? If there’s anything I can do—within my clearance, of course—then by all means!”

“Hm?” Turning to look, Pietro came face to face with one of the many S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that populated the Avengers’ base of operations. “Ah. How to say this… I am in need of information? I am… ah, well, behind on many things, I suppose.” Yes, that was true enough, was it not? Believable, even.

“You have clearance to use the network, you know,” the agent admitted, scratching his cheek. “I’m sure that’d more than compensate for your uh… lack of knowledge.”

“The network?”

The agent gave an awkward laugh, more-so at themself than Pietro. “Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t know about that either, would you? You’re new on the grounds, after all… Come with me!”

Curious, Pietro did his best to keep to the agent’s pace as he led him to a room Pietro hadn’t entered before. “It’s general clearance for anyone that can enter the facility, so it’s not _too_ in-depth, but for getting you up to speed with things here, I think this is a great start! If you need more information than what’s available, well, I’m sure you’ll be granted access to the higher clearance nodes soon enough.”

So many people were willing to choose his fate for him, eh? Pietro held his tongue for a moment, breathed, and said cheerfully enough, “Ah, yes, that might work. You have my thanks.”

The agent didn’t seem to sense anything wrong. With a polite wave, he saw himself out.

Glancing at the terminal he’d been brought before, Pietro frowned. He’d seen some computers, if one could call them such, around the facilities. Stark technology. They were barely physical, and Pietro hadn’t had much interaction with the physical kind either, growing up… Licking his lips, he waved a hand before it.

Nothing happened.

“Ah, right, right,” he realized. He’d probably moved at his _own_ speed—surely the poor computer wasn’t expecting _that_. Not its fault.

What no one seemed to realize—and, admittedly, it only _just_ dawned on Pietro as he stood here—was that the young man’s mind moved alongside his body. Meaning, he didn’t immediately _realize_ he was moving out of sync with the rest of the world. It was now his natural state, for whatever that was worth. Unconscious habit.

Sucking in the corner of his lower lip, the silver-haired man tried one more time, much more conscious of his movement speed. With a methodical wave of his hand, the series of comm displays opened up before him and he grinned broadly. “Well now, _this_ could be interesting.” With a few test pokes, he got a handle on the situation. “Hm. Yes, interesting. I suppose that this only makes sense, yes?”

He was staring at his own information docket, his profile picture staring back at him with soft arrogance.

~~~

Surprisingly, the Avengers’ information network had a decent amount of information on the Maximoff twins. Then again, the pair had originally been highlighted as adversaries to the crime-fighting heroes, so _some_ research was expected. Ever the dutiful big brother, Pietro scoured the pooled information on the twins before moving onto Wanda’s individual profile.

He could not breathe a sigh of relief. Her profile was mostly benign details that were not included in the joint-profile, however… there were _notes_. Regarding the potential scope of her abilities. Potential issues. “Chaos magic” it was called; whoever nicknamed it that seemed more fearful than awed.

Fear was a two-edged sword, Pietro knew. It meant the other had a weak point, but it also meant that person was likely on guard, potentially paranoid… which was not good for his sister.

Grudgingly, Pietro followed the pathways back to his own profile. The information should prove familiar to him, but now he knew it would also be colored by whoever chose to take notes on the subject matter, which gave him a leg up in some way.

He’d been reading silently for a minute or two when the door quietly slid open. “Oh, hey. What do you think you’re doing out and about?”

Pietro cast a small glance to the man in the doorway. African-American, militaristic-yet-charming. Sam Wilson. Pietro didn’t have much history with him yet. He opted for a cavalier approach. “Reading. Exercising my mind. I have to do _something_ to keep from going crazy, yes? Unless I am already crazy. Then I am not sure what I would be doing.”

Sam sighed softly, very softly. It would go unnoticed by most ears, in fact. He was used to this technique, of course. He’d dealt with plenty aggressively-dismissive individuals during counselling. Admittedly, Pietro Maximoff potentially had a much more drastic reason to be traumatized—he wasn’t so much barely alive as he was _practically dead_ —and a person (probably) didn’t walk away from that unscathed.

Sam could see Pietro was reading his own docket from where he stood. “Find any of that interesting?” he wondered, folding his arms over his chest.

“Well, I would consider asking you about it, only, you were not present.”

“I have another assignment that… tends to take priority,” Sam replied. He couldn’t really discuss that matter, with anyone, really.

“More important than saving the world, eh? Big stuff,” Pietro remarked. “Do see that it does not weigh you down, yes? The Avengers the public knows were all present and accounted for in Sokovia. This must mean you are doing work that is either not as savory or much more private.”

Sam smiled, a warm expression; he didn’t dislike the curious foreigner before him. Better to say, Sam was always looking for the right angle to get in with someone, and it seemed as though Pietro just might be attempting to do that right back at him. “Heh. Well, you’re not wrong. Not all of us put on a show.”

“Ah, yes. Razzle-dazzle them. Showmanship bothers me, I must admit. Ultron was… well, quite a showboat, is the phrase, yes?”

“Mm… think so. They say he got that from his ‘dad’.”

A small scowl, but it was there all the same. “Ah, of course, yes. The infamous Stark-brand persona. It was a bit much to see the two of them side-by-side, if I am to be, mm, perfectly honest.”

“Yeah, I can see that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, though.”

“We had enough fliers, I think, to cover the skies,” Pietro thought aloud. “The people, they were on the ground, and they could do nothing against those machines. Best to be between the two, yes?”

“Of course. But surely you’re not sequestered away in here just to look up news on the Ultron incident?”

“Mm, no, not really. I have an assignment.”

“Oh, so you accepted then? I hadn’t heard,” Sam remarked, blinking. It was a bit faster than he had expected, given the young man’s personality.

“Ah, no, I am sorry, you misunderstand. I mean to say, I have been given a task by Romanoff and Doctor Cho—to educate myself a bit more. With hopes that it will help me reach a decision, I am sure. This matter seems to be on everyone’s minds, when it comes to myself.”

“Reasonable. …But _you_ don’t find it reasonable?”

“My primary task is to reevaluate Stark. And, if I may be most honest with you, I am not certain I wish to know more about the man than I already do. Obviously, choosing to work alongside him would be just a touch more than _that_.”

“Well, just a thought, but… All I knew about you coming into this was that you’d caused us hell, injuring Barton and raiding places and all that. People often focus on the bad more than the good. But I know you were with Wanda when she turned over and from then on. I know you were going to let yourself _die_ to protect Barton and that kid. If you were a detriment to Wanda’s adaptation into this new life, well, you’d be out of here. We don’t play, you feel me? So when I’m told we’ve got both Maximoffs here, and they’re being given the option to become Avengers, this means something. You know what was at stake for everyone who went to Sokovia, better than anyone. Stark was one of those people. Don’t forget that.”

Pietro blinked. It was the honest truth that Tony Stark had rode out the Sokovia disaster to the very end. The billionaire could have simply flown away, and yet… he had not. No, he and Thor put forth their maximum effort in destroying the nation as it plummeted from the sky, knowing full-well that they may not survive the endeavor. But, if they hadn’t even tried… Sokovia would have been the death of the entire world.

All those lives…

“That is what it means to be an Avenger,” Sam said softly, seeing Pietro’s expression. “We’re all different. We all come from different places, mentally and physically speaking. But we want to protect the world. Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes…” Pietro murmured, nodding. “Let me ask you, friend. What do _you_ feel about Stark?”

With a small shrug, Sam admitted, “Flashy. Tries too hard. Lets his demons eat away at him. A man that could really, _really_ use a sit-down session or three… _thousand_ , if we’re being completely honest. But a good man at heart, at least now. We all have moments we’re not proud of. It’s how we overcome those moments that defines us.”

Pietro cocked his eyebrow at Sam. “I cannot imagine what sort of moment you would have, friend.”

“Big or small, they’re things we keep close to our chests, yeah?” Sam said, thumping a fist over his heart. “Maybe I’ll share it with you, one day. If you were in any other situation, I’d suggest sitting down and talking with Stark to get a more hands-on feel for the guy, but with your one-sided history it may help diffuse a bit of tension for you to do it this way.”

“I appreciate the understanding,” Pietro said, nodding. “Is there perhaps anything particular you would suggest I look into?”

Sam thought on it. A lot of what was in Tony Stark’s files were sure to be… not that great, honestly—but better than the particular picture that Pietro had of the man. “How about the incidents that started it all? I think it was 2008 or so. He was kidnapped by the Ten Rings, then there was his response to criminal activity in Gulmira. Pretty sure those were his first forays into being a hero. Then maybe you’ll be able to approach him, yeah?”

“Thank you, Sam,” Pietro said, flashing a genuine smile. It looked odd on the young man’s face, as if it were somehow against his own wishes, but Sam appreciated the sentiment. This was a difficult time for the potential new recruit.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, waving a hand. “You’ll be able to concentrate better that way. I’ll see you around.”

“Ah, yes, perhaps, perhaps,” the silver-haired speedster murmured. Sam smirked. He was already focused on the holographic screen before him. Without another word, Sam Wilson slipped out. The agent that had stopped him earlier and suggested he swing by the room had damn good intentions; Sam would have to commend him later.

Pietro raised a hand to his lips, staring intently at the profile picture of Tony Stark, a.k.a. “Iron Man”. It was from one of the businessman’s press photos, from the look of it. “Ah, hm. Tony Stark… has a particularly large file, it would seem! Origin… All right, I believe this is it…” He scanned the screen for a moment, searching for where to start. “Woah!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interested in checking out my original writing or spying on my three furbabbies’ antics? You can find us [here](http://nikkitapierrottie.com/)!

**Author's Note:**

> Interested in checking out my original writing or spying on my three furbabbies’ antics? You can find us [here](http://nikkitapierrottie.com/)!


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